Wrong Place, Wrong Time
by Riverspirit86
Summary: "He should have never been there in the first place." I sighed, lifting the white sheet and placing it over the body, making sure it was covered. I raised my head to look at the ceiling, a single tear slipping down my face as I thought one thing. 'Why' (Written for Marco's Birthday)


**I wrote this for Marco's Birthday, though I had the prompt a few weeks ago. My friend gave me the following sentence and said write a story with that being the first line.**

**"He should have never been there in the first place."**

**I hope you guys enjoy it and not hate me too much for it ^^**

**Come find me on tumblr!**

* * *

"He should have never been there in the first place." I sighed, lifting the white sheet and placing it over the body, making sure it was covered. I raised my head to look at the ceiling, a single tear slipping down my face as I thought one thing.

'_Why?'  
_

* * *

I had gone to my job as a coroner's assistant that evening as normal, not expecting the unthinkable to happen. I had kissed my fiancé goodbye as we parted ways, me going to the morgue and my fiancé going to the police station. I had then sat in the break room and played flappy bird, attempting to break my record of ten. I didn't really have anything to do since I had already examined the last body yesterday and so far today, no bodies had been brought in.

After an hour of playing, and a new high score of fifteen, I finally put my phone down as I heard police sirens going off from the station next door. I gave a silent prayer for the police having to go to the crime and thanked my lucky stars that Marco was on desk duty tonight. I always got a little worried when we both had night shifts on the same night and the sirens went off. Well, I had always worried when Marco had to go to work. I had already nearly lost him once in high school when there was a school shooting and Marco had been hit in the leg and had nearly bled out, but we had both survived to live another day. Since then, I have perpetually worried about my best friend turned lover. Granted, I showed that worry in a roundabout way, always being gruff and stern, but I knew that Marco understood my feelings with the calm composure that he had always had.

Shaking myself free of the memories I had been lost in for a while, I heard the office phone ring once before my superior picked it up. I sighed, getting up and walking around the cold office, trying to get my mind off of dark possibilities. Because of the phone call, I knew there was a chance of a body coming in tonight, so I began gathering the supplies needed to examine one. After all the equipment had been placed near an examining table, I returned to my phone for a few minutes before the coroner came rushing down the stairs, almost running into me before she came to an abrupt stop, nearly panting.

"Hanji. Chill. What's the rush?" I asked coolly, slipping my phone into my pocket as I walked over to the refrigerator in the corner, grabbing a water and handing it to my boss.

Hanji quickly drank half the bottle before replying, lying a shaking hand on my shoulder. "Jean. Go home. I'll pay you for the full time tonight, but you need to go home now." She looked off to the side, tears pricking her eyes.

I was immediately alert and concerned. Everything should be alright. Marco wasn't on patrol tonight, so there was no way something could have happened to him. Maybe something had happened to our friends?

"Hanji, just tell me what happened. If there's going to be several bodies, I'm staying to help, no matter what." I reassured her, silently hoping that Levi, her husband, was on desk duty tonight like Marco. But I figured that the second in command of the police force wouldn't be out on a basic patrol, so Levi should be safe.

But Hanji would have none of my words as she started leading me to the door. "Jean, seriously. You need to go now before - " she was cut off by one of the police underlings suddenly coming into the office, followed by a solemn looking EMT.

I felt my heart begin to race as I stared at the black body bag on the stretcher behind the newcomers. I nearly stopped breathing when a second EMT appeared behind a second stretcher and body bag. I took a step forward before freezing, not sure if I wanted to know who was in the bags.

"You two are Hanji Ackerman and Jean Kirschtein, correct?" The police underling asked, coming towards us, frozen in fear. I saw Hanji barely nod out of the corner of my eye as I tried to get my voice to work. After failing to reply twice, I was finally able to say a few words, my voice cracking slightly.

"Yes. Who are . . . ?" The question that no one wanted to answer hung in the room, tainting the brief silence with pain.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Was the only reply, the underling touching both Hanji's and my shoulders in a useless display of sympathy. He motioned for the EMTs to put the bodies on the morgue carts, turning back to us.

"I'll leave you two to mourn and to do your job. I am so sorry this happened. They should never have been there." The underling saluted to us and to the bodies before turning and walking out the door, his entire posture the vision of despair. Hanji and I stared at each other for a moment before turning to the EMTs still waiting by the bodies.

"We need a confirmation on the identities of the bodies, please." One of the EMTs said gently, coming to stand by Hanji as the other came to stand next to me. On a silent countdown, both EMTs slowly unzipped the bags, showing me the scene that would fuel my nightmares for years. I heard Hanji scream in emotional pain before breaking down into heart wrenching sobs, but my focus was on the body in front of me. I saw a mop of black hair that could barely be tamed above an unnaturally pale face littered with freckles. I saw closed eyes that I knew, if in a different circumstance, would be a rich chocolate brown and sparkling with life. But this wasn't that happy daydream. It was a nightmare.

I stumbled back from the body, my arms encircling myself in an attempt to keep myself together. I heard someone mumbling "no, no, no" repeatedly and it wasn't until my back slammed against the wall that I realized it was me. I sank to the floor, cradling my head in my hands, my eyes staring blankly in front of me. Our entire lives together flashed before my eyes, and I honestly wondered if Marco had seen similar things before he had died. A choked sob forced its way out of my throat and I bit my lip, trying not to let anymore out. But the tears still came as I stared at the floor, my arms dropping from my face to rest on my legs. I caught sight of my watch and noticed the time and date. 12:35 AM, June 16th, 2014. Marco's goddamn 28th birthday.

Another rough sob wrenched its way from me and I gave up trying to hold everything in. I stood up shakily, wobbling over to Hanji where she was bent over sobbing next to the corpse of her husband. I grasped her shoulders and tried to pull her away, trying to speak clearly through my tears.

"Hanji. Come here." I tried to say, but the tears thickened my voice to the point where even I couldn't understand myself. I attempted to pull her way, but she fought to stay next to her love for a few moments before collapsing weakly against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her shaking frame, my own tears falling silently as I stared at the bodies of both of our partners.

The EMTs took our tears as a confirmation that they had the right identities for the bodies. They looked at each other sadly before gently taking each body out of its bag and covering each with its own white sheet. I kept Hanji's head facing me as I buried my head in her hair, not wanting to see anymore of Marco's body or have Hanji see her husband's. The EMTs whispered a quiet "sorry for your loss" before they left us alone with the corpses of our loves.

* * *

The rest of the night flew by in a blur. I faintly remember Hanji calling in the back-up night coroner to come examine the bodies, since neither of us could do it. I barely remember walking over to the police station and screaming at the commander, using every single curse word I knew in English, French, and German, to describe how much I hated his guts for sending Marco to his death. I do remember collapsing to the floor in the station, whimpering Marco's name over and over until someone called my mother to pick me up, seeing as I was in no position to drive.

The drive to Marco's and my apartment was a silent one, my mother understanding my need to let everything sink in. The only time the silence was broken was when she whispered to me that we were here. But I sat, staring blankly out the windshield, until she had opened my door, unbuckled me, and was gently guiding me out of the car. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the fog that inhabited it since I had seen Marco's lifeless body. By the time we had reached my apartment, my cheeks were covered with tears again and my hands were shaking as I slowly unlocked the door. I told my mother that she could leave, but she hovered in the doorway, unsure if she should leave her son alone.

"Jean. I don't think you should be alone right no-" I cut her off with a shout.

"Stop it! I don't need your fucking pity! Stop looking at me like I'm broken, okay!? I just . . . I just need some time." My shouting had turned to a whisper by the time I had finished speaking. I was opening our liquor cabinet and pouring myself a shot by the time my mom spoke again.

"Just . . . be careful, Jean. Please come to us if you need someone, okay? We love you and we're here for you." My mother gently touched my shoulder before leaving the apartment, shutting the door with a small click. And for one of the first times in my life, I felt truly alone.

* * *

I spent the next few days in a drunken cycle. I would drink until I passed out, wake up to vomit, fall into a fitful sleep, wake up and repeat. I didn't know how much time had passed until Hanji appeared at my door one week after the deaths. She took one look at me and ordered me into the bathroom for a well needed shower and shave. When I was finished, and actually slightly resembled a human being again, I came out to find a breakfast for two laid out on my kitchen table. I sat down at one of the places and stared at Hanji sitting across from me.

"I didn't know you could cook." I stated bluntly, my voice hoarse from disuse. I scooped up some of scrambled eggs and popped them into my mouth, not really tasting them.

"It was Levi's favorite breakfast for whenever he got done with a tough case. He said it always cheered him up and made him feel better." She choked on her last words, tears slipping silently down her face. She picked at her toast and took a small bite, before suddenly jumping up and barely making it to the toilet before what little she had in her stomach made a second appearance.

I followed her and gently rubbed her back, holding her bangs out of the way. I wasn't any good at comforting someone who was feeling the same way as me. So after she was done, we just sat down on the bathroom floor and cried together. After a few minutes or so, we both slowly stopped crying and stared blankly at the wall in front of us. Hanji was the one to break the silence that enveloped us after our broken hearts had stopped crying.

"Does it get any better? _Will_ it ever get any better?" She whispered, a single tear slipping down her face. "I just . . . feel so numb. Like I'm in a fog. I keep finding myself looking for him, but he's not here. And he never will be. He's gone and I just can't accept it." She broke down in tears again. I didn't know how to comfort this side of Hanji. I had known her since my days interning at the morgue and I had never seen her this torn up. She was always so fascinated and excited, sometimes borderline creepy, about finding out how a body died. She was always the interested coroner. But now, she was a grieving wife. And I didn't know how to help.

We sat on the bathroom floor for a while, our breakfasts getting cold in the kitchen. Eventually, I asked the question that had remained a constant in my head through my alcohol filled week.

"How did they die." My question sounded more like a statement when my voice came out as a monotone, all the feeling completely gone. I heard Hanji's breath hitch when I asked, but then heard a deep breath before her words.

"It was an armed robbery. The main team couldn't get close enough, so they called for backup. Levi and Marco tried to get in the back way so they could take the robber by surprise. Well, bullet proof vests only cover so much, you know." She choked out a harsh laugh at that. "Levi was hit in the leg. The bullet completely tore up his femoral. Bled out in a few minutes. Marco got hit in the carotid. Bled out in half the time. But their deaths allowed the main team to get to the robber and take him down. The team tried to save them, but it was too late for both. Mike said Levi died in his arms while Marco died in Nanaba's. At least they weren't alone." Hanji broke down in sobs again and I held her tightly as my own tears fell for God knows what time this week. We both calmed down after a few minutes and just sat there embracing each other. Eventually, Hanji spoke again.

"The funeral is tomorrow. It's a joint one, for both of them. The city is paying for it all. I just really need you to come, okay? I need someone who is experiencing the same feelings I am to be there. Please, Jean?" She turned to me, eyes red and puffy from crying, and gave me the most pitiful smile I have ever seen. I nodded, giving an equally pitiful smile in return. We both laughed at the same time and smiled, looking up at the ceiling where we hoped our loved ones were watching us.

* * *

The funeral was horrible. I hated how many people came up to me and said they were sorry for my loss when I could tell they wished I was dead too. I hated the mean glares and pointed whispers when the mayor announced that I was Marco's next of kin, being his fiancé after all. I thought our town would be better than disgracing a fallen police officer simply because he was gay. The only good thing, which was also probably the worst, was seeing Marco's body for the last time. He looked like he was sleeping, but it was wrong. When they had made him look less, well, dead, they had covered up his freckles, and hadn't recreated them. So while I knew it was Marco lying in the casket, it didn't really feel like him, and I knew that I would never get true closure because of this.

After the viewing and service, only close friends and family members went to the cemetery where both Levi and Marco would be buried. I sat silently in my mother's car while we followed the two hearses, my mind completely empty except for one thought that was spiraling on repeat through my head.

'_He's dead. Marco is dead. I'll never see him again. He is dead.'_

I felt a few tears slowly slip down my face and I shuddered. I needed to stop crying. I needed to stop being so goddamn weak. So I wiped my face clean and focused my gaze on Hanji's car in front of us. I felt my mother place her hand on my shoulder and squeeze, but I simply kept looking forward, ignoring the sympathetic look she gave me.

After the short ride, we arrived at the cemetery and we got out of our car slowly. It was such a nice day out. The sun was shining, the birds chirping, not a cloud in the sky. Marco would have loved today. He would have wanted to have a picnic in the park and watch the sunset with me. I stumbled a little when I remembered that I would never again spend my time with him. I quickly caught myself and ignored my mother's outstretched hand and look of concern. I glanced at her slightly before jogging up to where Hanji was walking slowly. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and she looked up at me, confused for a moment, before leaning into me, sniffing slightly.

"I can't believe it. It doesn't seem real. I thought we would raise a family together. Grow old together. Die in each other's arms." A tear fell down her face onto the grass below us. "Why is the world so cruel, Jean? _Why?"_ She whispered brokenly.

For once, I didn't have an answer.

* * *

After everything was over, I went back to my apartment. It wasn't Marco's and mine anymore. It was only mine now. I grabbed the counter as a sudden wave of grief and sadness washed over me with that realization. I quickly grasped the nearest bottle of alcohol and took a deep swig, feeling the burn throughout my body. I knew it wasn't healthy, but it was how I was dealing with it. Taking another large gulp, I went to our, my, closest and pulled out the collapsed boxes behind our, my, clothes. I drank another sip of the vile liquid before setting it down on ou-my beside table. I reconstructed the boxes and began packing. I couldn't stay here any longer. This place held too many memories and I just couldn't survive here. I called the office and left a message for whoever took over Hanji's and my jobs this past week, letting them know that I was done.

I finally passed out around 2 AM and slept fitfully until 6. When I couldn't fall back asleep, I got up and watched the sunrise, thinking of how Marco would have loved to watch it with me. For once, I didn't feel alone.

I finished packing everything into boxes and then sat in the middle of my kitchen, staring at my whole life with Marco, now in boxes, like he was. I choked back a sob and tried not to cry, but it was like the floodgates opened and I sobbed like a lost child. In a sense, I was. Marco had been my everything. He was my rock. My savior. My friend. My lover. My home. And when he died, he took all of that with him. I had nothing left here. I was alone again.

It took a while, but I eventually calmed down enough to be able to make a phone call to my mom. I asked if she could give me a ride to the office, since I had left my car there last week before this shit-fest happened. She agreed, and said she would be over in a few minutes. We hung up and I wobbled over to the window in the bedroom. I stared up at the sky, seeing rainclouds forming overhead. I smiled sadly as the first few raindrops hit the window. It felt nice, having the sky cry for me.

My mother just had my dad drive my car over to the apartment. Within an hour, I had everything packed into my car except for major furniture, and I was gone.

* * *

I drove and drove, until both the rain and my tears kept me from seeing the road. I put on my flashers and pulled over to the side of the highway. I didn't know where I was going. Just away from New York, away from the pain. I stepped out of my car, not caring that I was getting drenched by the rain. I walked along the shoulder for a few minutes, losing sight of my car and not really caring. I saw the Hudson River below me from where I was standing and I walked over to the edge of the highway to get a better look at the choppy water. I smiled sadly at the water, my emotions feeling just as wild as the swirling waters below me. I leaned over just a bit, my hands holding tight to the railing. The water mesmerized me. It felt like it was calling to me. I felt my body unconsciously lean closer to the water before my mind snapped back into reason. I quickly pulled away from the edge, shaking my head quickly, trying to clear my mind. I started walking back to my car, taking a wild guess at where it was. I didn't see the headlights rushing towards me until it was too late.

* * *

**PLEASE DON'T KILL ME**


End file.
